Bedsheets and Bloodstains
by TheEleventhIncarnate
Summary: Oneshot about mentally insane!England and Spain. Some SpUK/UKSp and violence. Please R&R.


Bedsheets and Bloodstains

It was hard work making Antonio presentable nowadays. It seemed to be getting harder and harder every day. At least, Arthur was presuming so, with how much make-up he'd been having to use on the man, not to mention putting him in jeans in a sweater in the middle of summer. No matter how hard he tried, they always got the same looks.

The work was worth it, he supposed. Necessary at the very least. With so many bruises, cuts, scrapes and scars littering Spain's body, the looks would be worse had he not taken action.

"My face hurts," Spain complained for what seemed like the fiftieth time that day. Snapping a harsh look up at him, Arthur could just barely see a bluish tint around his left eye and cursed under his breath. They'd have to return home quickly.

"How many times do I have to tell you I don't care? Pick up the pace." The blonde replied coldly. Dressed in his uniform, he looked rather overdressed next to the Spaniard, who also looked overdressed considering the temperature. Odd looks were given and ignored. The two continued walking, Spain occasionally complaining he was hurt, England brushing it off with an insult. Finally arriving at the home they shared, the Brit shoved him inside and locked the door behind them. A mix between a sex toy and a punching bag, Antonio didn't bother to react. This was his life now. He was used to it.

"What n-" the brunette was unable to complete his question as he was abruptly pulled into a kiss. Used to those things as well, there was no element of surprise to be had.

"I think you know what comes next." Arthur replied softly, smirking in that way that always sent shivers down Toni's back. Nonetheless, his hand was taken and he followed willingly up the staricase and into England's room. The heavy sweater was taken off, as was the suit jacket, yet the blonde paused for a moment to admire the 'artwork' of scars he'd left on the man's chest.

The two backed towards the master bed and Toni pushed the Brit down onto it, quickly following and undoing the first few buttons on his dress shirt.

"I want you..." England whispered into Spain's ear as the Spaniard climbed on top of him, tugging at the blonde's pants. Slowly, a sick grin filled with false innocence pulled at his thin lips, yet Spain's eyes were closed, his mouth pressed up against Arthur's collarbone, his fingers working to undo the rest of his buttons. The Brit's slender, unnoticed hand trailed its way down to his pocket and discreetly pulled from it a knife, his free fingers working through the other man's hair. He raised the armed limb before slowly dragging the tip of his knife about halfway down Spain's back, forcing him to abruptly pull away with fear in his eyes. ".. Dead."

The grin was still present as he completed his sentence. Antonio felt his heart sink in his chest, the stinging in his back not in his focus enough for him to notice it. The man who lay before him had told he him loved him on multiple occasions. On the other hand, he'd also said he despised the Spaniard quite a few times. Yet something told him this wasn't just another result of his bipolar diagnosis. This could very well be his actual intention.

"Don't look so surprised," the Brit spoke again, propping himself up on his elbows and waving the knife dismissively. His voice was smooth and quiet, as if telling him not to overreact at a harmless prank. Spain didn't flinch. Such an action was nothing new.

"I'm not." He replied, in all honesty finding it hard to concentrate with Arthur half naked in front of him, and in such a compromising position at that. With all he'd already gone through, the situation was more a disappointment than anything else. Given the chance, he would have still continued.

"Damn, really? I was so sure I'd catch you off guard this way." He sounded legitimately upset with this as he sat up on his knees, weapon dangling loosely from his fingers. He gently but firmly pushed Antonio down and straddled his stomach, smirking lightly. Toni made no attempts to escape. "Might I try again?"

"All's fair in love and war," came a rather monotone reply. The Spaniard could feel his blood soaking into the white sheets below them, but he pushed the thoughts aside as their lips met in a deep kiss. Love and war seemed to go hand in hand with the two of them. Skin against skin, he'd come to accept that fact. Suddenly feeling the sting of cool metal piercing the skin over his ribs, he couldn't help but let a small, muffled whimper escape him. More blood painted the sheets.

"Better?" England asked, lips still touching Spain's, who shook his head slightly in silent reply, trying not to let his pain show on his face. The blonde pouted.

"What are you trying to do here?" Antonio questioned accusingly. Their relationship had never been one of the best, that was for sure. Yet he'd always trusted he'd be kept alive. Even with the nagging fear in his mind, his hands managed to find their way up Arthur's legs to rest innocently on his skinny thighs, his want outweighing his fear.

"What do you _think _I'm trying to do, love? I'm trying to kill you." he paused and scoffed. The smile caused another shiver that went ignored. "Well, not trying. I'll be succeeding, I can assure you of that."

The grip on Arthur's legs tightened as fear gripped Antonio just as hard. His green eyes widened up at the blonde, desperately waiting to hear that he was kidding. Only one word managed to slip out of his lips. "W-why?"

"Why?" he repeated, and scoffed again. "Let me answer that question with another question. Why not? What use are you to me? The only thing you provide me with is anger and a constant hate." Such words hit the victim hard; he was just starting to believe that maybe, just maybe his old nemesis actually _did _love him, that every time he spoke the three words, he wasn't lying.

"But.. I thought..."

"That I loved you?" Arthur finished for him and laughed, shaking his head. To him, this was all a huge joke. Something he'd planned out just for the satisfaction one gets after yelling 'April Fools!' Breaking someone from the inside out.. it was just so much fun. "Not in the slightest! I've been wanting to rip that stupid smile off your face for years. Was this not a creative way of doing so?" The innocence of his voice was almost too much to bear. It wasn't a mood swing, it was real. This one wouldn't be going away. It was obvious that England wasn't done yet. He continued without too much of a pause. "So tell me, Antonio, are you ready to die? Oh, that's right, I almost forgot I don't care."

"Arthur, please, don't do this.." Spain pleaded, feeling the tears well up in his eyes. Although he already felt as if his heart had been torn from his chest, he realized with horror that his lover intended to do so physically. He placed his knife's tip right over Toni's heart, yet pause a moment to give him one last kiss.

"It was fun while it lasted.. who knows, maybe I do love you. But I'm afraid that doesn't matter now. Goodbye, Antonio." Not allowing a word of protest, Arthur raised his blade high in the air and brought it down hard between the shielding ribs over the Spaniard's vital organ. Removing the knife from the skin, he hugged him close, feeling the warm blood on his chest and a sick sense of happiness with it.

Slowly he released the body, which had obviously lost life fairly quickly. Gently closing Spain's green eyes for him, he smiled and stepped off the bed. White sheets had turned to red. Just the way he liked it. England remained just a moment, before turning and heading towards the door. He shut off the room's lights and took one last glance behind him.

"Sweet dreams, my love." With those four, simple words, the problematic British man blew a kiss to the corpse, waved, and closed the door behind him.


End file.
